


The 'Reasonable Noise' Committee

by viemmiee



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, College Student Rey (Star Wars), F/F, F/M, M/M, neigbours au, reylo au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-02
Updated: 2020-06-02
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:07:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24506644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/viemmiee/pseuds/viemmiee
Summary: When noise complaints, protests, flyers and even one (very begrudgingly made) call to the LAPD doesn't seem to dissuade Rey's incredibly noisy neighbours from being antisocial monsters - as she refers to them as - she feels as though she has no choice but to form a 'reasonable noise' committee for the greater good of the apartment block. It's the strangest thing though - Rey almost feels as though one of her neighbours, Ben, is throwing parties every night in a bid to deliberately irritate her.
Relationships: Rey & Ben Solo, Rey & Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Reylo
Comments: 4
Kudos: 15





	The 'Reasonable Noise' Committee

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! ♡ This is crap and I don't know what I'm doing. Enjoy!

She slammed her coffee down on the kitchen table with so much force, the table itself almost buckled under the exertion. The slam was barely heard, however, over the wailing of Neil Diamond’s _Sweet Caroline_ by what one could only estimate as a cacophony of at least 20 drunken voices resounding from the apartment directly above. Her phone chose that exact moment to beep at her angrily, reminding her that it was the ungodly hour of 8.00am. On a Sunday. 

If the world was a fair or kind place, she would be tucked up in her warm bed, fast asleep right about now. 

“That’s **_IT!_** ” Rey screeched - having to really strain at the decibels, in order to be heard above the din. She kicked her flimsy chair back behind her, where it squealed uncomfortably on the shoddy linoleum floor and marched across the small expanse of the apartment to the front door, clearly on the warpath. 

“Oh god no, _Rey_ -” Finn managed to sound both exasperated and panicked as he followed in her wake, “-c’mon, we literally moved in four days ago, we can’t already make _enemies_ -”

But Rey was apoplectic. She was past being reasoned with. She’d barely gotten any sleep the night before. Or the night before that. Or the night before _that_. It was becoming a habit she wasn’t interested in repeating; everyone knew she did _not_ do well without sleep. 

Which was possibly why Finn visibly flinched when she rounded on him. Finn was, by now, _well aware_ that Rey Johnson was **not** a morning person. In fact, depending on whether she managed to get at least 7 hours shut eye and at least 2 coffees in her, her moods ranged from grouchy gremlin to formidable, fiery beast. Nobody who knew Rey was stupid enough to take her on when she was sleep deprived. 

“I’m not going to make _enemies!_ Don't be daft. But something needs to be said to those _wankers._ Keeping us up all night is disrespectful, it’s not neighbourly, it’s just plain _rude_ \-- and to completely butcher _Queen_ like that? Freddie would be rolling over in his grave. That was really the last straw for me. I have to say something.”

After shoving on the closest pair of shoes (some wellington boots with yellow daisies decorating them; highly inappropriate for a Californian summer outside of, y’know, somewhere ironic like Coachella) and an anorak in a hideous shade of lime-green (again, she hadn’t properly updated her London-perpetual-rain-and-cold wardrobe yet), she stomped out of the apartment without a backwards glance. Of course, she could feel Finn following a step behind her as he always did, worry seeming to roll off him in almost perceptible waves, which happened whenever Rey got into one of her “passionately indignant” states, as he termed them. Too many times she’d mouthed off and ended up getting the both of them in trouble; she supposed it was only natural Finn was nervous.

She thundered up the stairwell, too incensed to wait for the elevator. Finn managed to keep up with her, still trying to talk any semblance of sense into her before she launched into a diatribe against unknown strangers,

“Rey, I’m being serious- just _calm down_. We’re not in London any more, you have to remember. People are allowed to have _guns_ in this country. You have no idea who our neighbours are-” 

Rey stopped in her tracks, her mouth twisting into a frown. She hadn’t considered that. She was more than happy to flip off a taxi driver in London for being a prick and over-charging her, because she didn’t have to worry that he would pull a gun out on her - which, incidentally, she had actually done less than a week ago, when the taxi driver had taken the long route to deliver her and Finn to Heathrow airport. All her friends back in the UK had warned her that she had better watch her temper while living in the US. It was a frightening thought; having to monitor her behaviour. But then, she glanced at Finn and met his gaze. Bloody hell, she hated when he was right (which was often).

She sighed audibly, some of her visceral anger ebbing and leaving her body. She nodded, 

“Okay. You’re right. I wasn’t thinking... I won’t go in, all guns blazing. If you pardon the pun.” 

Finn looked noticeably relieved. Rey grinned at him, 

“But. I’m still going to say _something._ I have to! Butchering _Queen_ like they did last night is really not on.”

Finn rolled his eyes and muttered, although there was the ghost of a smile around his lips,

“Of course you have to say something.”

“It’ll be something polite! I promise.”

Rey skipped up the rest of the flight of stairs, while Finn trudged behind her muttering, 

“When the hell are you _polite_ , Rey?”

It was obvious which apartment the culprits lived in, as soon as Rey and Finn arrived on the fifth floor landing. The noisy neighbours had moved onto Cher’s seminal _Do You Believe?_ and the dulcet, slurred tones of people who’d stayed up all night intoxicated rang throughout the hallway, clearly emanating from apartment 503. 

Some of Rey’s “indignant passion” had returned. Her forehead crumpled into a frown as she muttered, outraged, 

“They can’t do this to Cher. This song is _iconic._ It deserves better.”

She knocked politely on the front door, as Finn twitched nervously beside her. They waited with baited breath for a few beats - but it became altogether apparent that nobody had heard the knock from inside the apartment, as someone began to off-key scream to a round of delighted shrieks, _“I CAN FEEL SOMETHING INSIDE ME SAAAAAAAY! I REALLY DON’T FEEL STRONG ENOUGH, NOOOO!”_

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Rey grumbled, all niceties abandoned as she then began pounding her fist against the door as loudly as she could. She continued pounding her hand on the door until she heard someone yell from inside, 

“Hey, is that a delivery guy? I didn’t think we ordered breakfast? Guys?! You promised we’d go to McDonalds!”

This was motivation enough for Rey to bellow through the door, 

**“HELLO! IT’S YOUR NEIGHBOURS. PLEASE COME TO YOUR FRONT DOOR!”**

The music switched off rather dramatically, and both Rey and Finn were somewhat taken aback by the sudden lack of noise. They stared at each other for a moment and then Finn, in one of his characteristic bouts of _saying-something-awkward-at-an-inopportune-and-completely-inappropriate-moment_ yelped, 

“Jesus Rey, you’re not wearing a bra! Quickly - do your anorak zipper up!”

And before Rey could dignify that comment with a, “ _Stop staring at my tits!_ ”, or “ _I just got out of bed what do you expect?!_ ” or even make to cover the thin, worn fabric of her pyjama top with her coat, the front door burst open. 

“Who’s not wearing a bra?”

\--

The (impertinent) question heralded from a deep, smokey voice, which belonged to a frankly, rather enormous man. The man was _so_ enormous, in fact, that he virtually filled the entire doorway. Rey practically had to crane her neck to meet the stranger’s gaze. He was pale and rather unusual looking at first glance - but then, upon a second and more deliberate glance, Rey’s eyes were drawn to the pouty lips, the warm, scotch-coloured eyes, the smattering of moles and the wild, cascading tumble of black curls…

Finn coughed awkwardly, and somewhat pointedly, beside her and she remembered herself. Why she was there. And it was _not_ to gawk at large men. Ahem. She immediately pulled her hideous lime-green anorak around her which shielded her threadbare pyjama shame, folded her arms across her chest (to cover any further hint that she was indeed braless) and regained her composure. Taking great care to at least start-off sounding somewhat polite, as promised, Rey asked,

“Do you live in this flat?”

The man looked amused by the question. A wry smirk twisted his pouty lips, before he replied, 

“ _Flat?_ Are you British?”

Annoyed that he had dodged the question, Rey answered curtly, 

“Yes. Do you live here?”

The man nodded in response. He was openly smirking now and looked irritatingly smug whilst doing so. Rey ploughed on, undeterred and trying her very best to still appear polite, 

“We live in the flat directly below you. And, we wanted to have a conversation today with you about the noise level. Well…” And this was where her politeness started to falter, or rather - her politeness veered off the cliff sharply and plummeted into the depths of her "passionate indignation" below, “I’m not going to sugar coat how I feel. The fact that you’re blasting music at this time of the morning? It's _bloody_ anti-social. Actually, it’s jolly _rude_. The noise from your flat also kept us both up all night. We barely got _any_ sleep-”

The man glanced noticeably at Finn at this comment and it dawned on Rey that the man had been staring exclusively at her for the past five minutes. The smirk reappeared, as soon as his eyes landed back on Rey,

“Woah, woah… anti-social? It was Saturday night. Having a party is kind of the _opposite_ of anti-social, if you think about it.”

Rey had little patience for smart alecs. And there was no doubt about it. This big, huge, disarmingly pretty man was being the _smartiest-alec_ she had ever come across.

“It’s not _neighbourly!_ ” Rey replied in exasperation, going as far as to stomp her wellington boot on the linoleum floor in her “passionate indignation”. “And don’t act as though last night’s noise was a one-off thing. It’s been horrible renditions of Elton John’s greatest hits or The Proclaimers on repeat for _the last three nights!_ ” 

The guy was no longer smirking. He was sniggering. _Openly_ sniggering. He had the absolute gall to laugh at her. 

How dare he!

“Aw, are you just sore that you didn’t get invited? You’re welcome to come in, if you want to. We’re still kicking-on for a bit...”

Rey retorted in a cutting voice, 

“That’s the _last_ thing I want. Just keep the noise down! Doesn’t this country have noise pollution laws? I don’t want to call the police - y’know, and that’s why I thought I would come up here and talk like _mature adults_ -” She drew herself to all five foot seven inches of full height (which was hardly impressive against the brick-wall of a human being opposite), and added in disdain, “-but I can see I’m not dealing with anyone on _my level_ of maturity.”

“You’re wearing rain boots covered in flowers and a rain coat when it’s 90 degrees out.” The man deadpanned in response. “I don’t know about maturity, per say, but that to me doesn’t indicate you have much _sense_.” 

Rey’s cheeks flushed pink, but her eyes narrowed in determination, 

“I will call the police next time. I really will!” 

The man shrugged, seemingly unbothered, 

“You do what you gotta do.” 

Rey’s lip jutted out in annoyance. Why was this guy being a deliberate dick?! She almost stomped her daisy-covered wellington boot again in irritation. 

“Is that _really_ how you're going to play it? Why are you being such a wanker?”

The man barked out a laugh and then pulled out his phone from his jean pocket, 

“Okay, okay. I don’t want any more British insults hurled my way, so - look. Here’s a compromise. We can exchange numbers - you can text me when it’s getting too loud and my roommates and I can _try_ and turn it down. For you. If you ask nicely.” The man held out his phone in offering, but Rey glanced at it wearily, still annoyed, 

“Why won’t you just agree to turn down the music and keep the noise to a minimum, full stop? That's such a _basic_ thing - why aren't you getting it?”

A flicker of irritation twitched the man’s dark eyebrows, as Rey didn’t immediately take his phone and continued to resist. He answered, his arm still outstretched with the offering of the phone,

“Hey. Look. My buddies and I have lived in this apartment building for almost ten years now. And in all that time, we’ve never received any complaints before. You're the first.”

Rey snorted in derision, 

“I find that hard to believe.”

The man’s irritation grew into a glower, 

“Believe what you want, it’s the truth.”

Rey replied sharply, 

“That's probably because nobody had the guts to come up here and tell you to shut up! But I don’t mind telling obnoxious Americans when they’re being obnoxious! And yeah- _you’re_ being obnoxious!” 

She was running out of steam (in her defence, it was 8 in the morning and her vocabulary was rather narrow before her second cup of coffee of the day) and somewhat aware that this probably wasn’t her finest or most accomplished speech, so she surmised quickly, “So- I’ll say it again. Keep the noise down, or next time I’m calling the police!”

At the exact moment Rey ended her tirade, another face appeared in the doorway. This face was _devastatingly_ handsome; Rey didn’t know whether it was due to the chiseled cheekbones or whether it was because this guy looked like a cross between George Clooney and a Disney Prince - but she felt her cheeks flush. Finn, who had so far remained resolutely silent throughout the entire interaction, shuffled nervously beside her. 

The handsome man slurred at the big, tall man, 

“What’s going on? Is it breakfast?” The handsome man caught sight of Rey and Finn, and immediately flashed a charming smile. A _Prince Charming_ smile Rey thought; although, maybe a _Prince Charming_ who was also hammered shit. 

“Who do we have here? I’m Poe.” He winked - and while Rey appreciated the effort, the fact that he was swaying on the spot dampened the effect considerably. “Do you guys want to come in? We’re expecting breakfast. I’m also making mimosas. But we don’t have OJ, so it’s just champagne. Well. Boxed wine.”

Before Rey could even respond, the tall man cut her off, 

“No dude, they don’t want to come in. That is the _opposite_ reason for why they’re here. They’re complaining we’re too loud.” He then added, “And you didn’t order breakfast idiot, Hux wants to go to McDonalds later.”

“Oh…” Poe wrinkled his nose in obvious distaste at both Finn and Rey. He shook his head, and added in a catty voice, “What fun sponges! Oh well. Come back inside Ben, we’re going to sing ABBA.”

“We’re **not** watching Mama Mia again, I _banned_ it from this house!”

But Poe had already danced inside, singing at the top of his voice, _“SO IF YOU’RE NEAR ME DARLING, CAN’T YOU HEAR ME? SOS!”_. Rey grimaced. Poe was clearly the person who had butchered all her favourite songs over the past couple of days with his off-key wailing. 

Tall man - Ben, apparently - glanced back at Rey and Finn. 

“Well… I’ve invited you in, offered you my number, and you’ve called me a wanker. That about summarises it, right? Yep. Good. So, yeah. I think we’re done here.”

And without any further ado, he slammed the door in Rey and Finn’s faces.

Rey was silent for half a beat, before rounding on Finn for the second time that morning, 

“Thanks for all your help! Who are you? Mute Mandy?” She grimaced at that - Mute Mandy? Jeez. Her ability to insult was waning. First it was the rambling about obnoxious Americans and now this. It was _clearly_ time for another cup of coffee.

Finn frowned, 

“You wouldn’t have let me get a word in edgewise, anyway. And besides, the guy barely even noticed I was there.” 

Rey grumbled, “I still would have liked you to have said _something._ Back me up a little, next time!” 

Finn grumbled right back, “Fat lot of good it’s done us. I _knew_ you would make enemies!”


End file.
